


Lipstick Kisses

by BrittleDame



Series: Truly, Madly, Deeply in Love Series [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Barebacking, Biting, Engaged, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Lingerie, M/M, Marking, Minor Spoilers, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Post-Time Skip, Semi deserves a break 2020, Shirabu is a tease and Semi lives for it, Shirabu wearing lingerie, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26528608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittleDame/pseuds/BrittleDame
Summary: The past few weeks have been difficult for the both of them following the engagement, with Semi having it leagues worse than Shirabu. One late night has Shirabu's roaming mind hatching a plan to uplift Semi's spirit and rekindle the passion that had been denied from them both due to work - all while fulfilling a desire of his own. After a long day at work, Semi was rewarded with the sight of Shirabu dressed in crimson satin and lace, prompting him to take them to bed and swear to not leave it until they were both sated.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Series: Truly, Madly, Deeply in Love Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859161
Comments: 2
Kudos: 94





	Lipstick Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> You don’t need to read the rest of the series to understand what occurs in this installment, all you need to know is that they’re engaged and very much in love with one another. Enjoy!

While they both had a difficult past few weeks, with god-awful timetabling of his shifts at the hospital and putting up with uncooperative patients, unwilling to talk to a newly minted doctor due to their stupid pride, Eita managed to have a week leagues worse than his.

It first started with his idiot co-workers – _didn’t it always?_ – becoming especially nasty towards the poor man once word around the office spread about him being eligible for the new branch managerial position that was up for grabs. The position has been eyed up by the staff the moment the guy left, seat barely cold before people started sucking up to the branch boss. The situation was exacerbated by that same boss piling on all the work of said managerial position onto an already overworked Eita, just without the pay and flexible hours. 

From the past two weeks alone, he was working red eye shifts trying to complete all the work assigned to him to satisfy his insatiable boss. It was a never-ending cycle of work and crude comments from his asshole cohort. From slumped shoulders and tired lines etching his handsome face, Kenjirou knew it weighed on him heavily. Kenjirou’s heart ached at the thought.

Eita was never meant for civil servant work, he always had the free spirit of a musician. No matter how much Kenjirou insisted they could live on his new increased pay, Eita absolutely refused to quit his job and focus on his music full-time, reasoning it wouldn’t be fair for the already stressed doctor to be the bread winner.

 _“Besides,”_ Eita smiles tiredly, _“I don’t mind coming home to you in asleep in bed, it means I can cuddle you as tightly as I want without you kicking me.”_ He earned himself a kick for the absolute cheese he exudes, but internally Kenjirou’s heart flipped at the besotted words.

The few moments they could scrap up to spend in each other’s company, even if it was a rushed meal at the breakfast bar, was never enough. Since the night Eita had proposed to him, they hardly had the time to press a hasty kiss onto each other’s lips, let alone touch other another. Work had completely stifled any and all sexual encounters between the two and Kenjirou was just about to blow up from pent up sexual frustration.

As much as Kenjirou liked to act that the lack of sex didn’t affect him, it so very clearly did. Sex was the perfect way of blowing off some steam after a difficult shift, and it was more than pleasurable for both parties than starting a fight. Unfortunately, even a quick blow job was off the table, as Eita was too tired or rushed to give or receive.

All of this led Kenjirou to his current situation. Hand on his dick in the shower, furiously trying to jerk off to no end. Even with the boundless material of mental snapshots involving sensual images of Eita that Kenjirou could conjure, it was never enough to tip him off the edge. Even if he did orgasm in his hand, it was dissatisfying.

Your hand can only get you so far after tasting Eita’s intense passion. Hands softened after his volleyball years could hardly compare anymore, as he was adamant to admit. A thought come unbidden to him as he slowly towels himself off in the steaming bathroom reeling from a forced orgasm that left a bitter taste in his mouth. It could possibly rekindle some romance in their relationship and let them unwind after the harsh reality of adulthood.

Rushing to get dressed, he drops down onto the bed and fishes out his laptop from the bedside table, waiting as it logs him in. The idea is far from new, he’s been meaning to try it out for a while, so he’s somewhat surprised he’s never attempted this before. Enticing thoughts of what expression Eita would make when he sees what exactly Kenjirou had in store for him made his fingers tremble in anticipation.

Fingers flying over the keys, it takes only a short few seconds before he finds a site offering the goods he was looking for. He carefully scrolls through each and every option they displayed before pausing. The site offered many options, but he found the exact piece he pictured in his mind’s eye every time he indulged the fantasy.

Biting at the inside of his cheek, he adds the items to cart and checks out before he loses the courage he scrounged up. Sighing, he closed the laptop and placed it beside him, head _thunk_ -ing against the headboard as he stews over what exactly he just did. Courage leaving a vacant hole as it leaves him, filled by anxiety that maybe Eita wouldn’t like it.

 _‘Only time will tell’_ , he assures himself.

-

According to the email he received this morning, the delivery was due today and should be in their postal box by the time he reached home. For once, Kenjirou is thankful that Eita was working overtime today. Albeit Eita swore that he would be coming home not even an hour later than usual. The sound of Kenjirou’s dismayed tone broke his heart, it was hard not to cave when Kenjirou got like that, Eita found. His heart was entirely too soft for the young doctor.

Anticipation sits hot and restless in Kenjirou’s stomach for the rest of his shift, fingers tapping restlessly against the clipboard whenever he stood stationary for too long. His unusual behaviour didn’t go unnoticed by his attendee, nor by his fellow residents, but he ignored the querying looks they sent his way as he grabbed his stuff and rushed to his car.

The drive home passed in the blink of an eye, Kenjirou’s excitement not smothered by the road rage he usually experienced towards the slow Tokyo drivers. Hands flexing around the steering wheel, he forcefully tries to calm his rapid heartbeat. This wasn’t a big deal. It was just something out of the norm. He was a qualified doctor, Kenjirou shouldn’t be acting like an over-excited schoolgirl at the prospect of what was hidden within the parcel waiting for him.

Putting on a cool and calm façade, he leaves the car, keeping an ear out for the automatic locking sound, and slowly approached the wall of postal boxes inside the foyer of their building. To any closely observing strangers, they may have noticed the slight quirk of his lips and the excited aura Kenjirou unconsciously exuded, but fortunately they seemed to pay him no mind.

The package itself was quite innocuous, white parcel wrapping encasing a medium-sized box with the same thickness of his medical textbooks. Kenjirou couldn’t help the slight tremor in his hand as he kicks shut the apartment door behind him, grabbing a pair of scissors from the kitchen bench and setting off to their bedroom.

Snipping away layers of plastic covering, the layers peeled away to reveal a black box emblazoned with the golden logo of the company. While Kenjirou did try to avoid some of the more… _tawdry_ sites, he was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the packaging. The packaging wasn’t what he had spent this whole week waiting on edge for, it was the contents inside that mattered.

Carefully lifting the lid off, red crepe paper was the last layer Kenjirou had to rip through before he finally set his eyes on the very items that hadn’t left his mind since the day he ordered them.

Slowly, he lifts the first piece out of the box, the crimson satin was soft in his hands, skin not catching on the quality fabric in the slightest. He admires the corset in his hands for a moment longer, carefully sitting it to the side to pull out the matching lacy bottoms.

In theme with the corset, it exhibited a teasing amount of skin through the small gaps of the elegant looping pattern. The soft lace should hopefully hide enough of his length to be enticing. Still inside the box still sat a matching set of satin garters lined with the same lace that he may or may not wear. Kenjirou brought them on a whim, unsure if he would wear them, but thinking that they would complete the racy outfit.

A shower was his first port of call. A quick shave and a little moisturiser went a long way to maximise his first impression of the expensive slips of fabric. Besides, the sterile smell of his clothes and skin would forever be a turn off for him now that it’s subconsciously associated with work and the many unpleasant things that come along with it.

Stripping down bare in the clean bathroom, he makes a notes to himself to thank Eita for doing laundry, as he throws his used clothes in the empty basket and starts up the shower. As he waits for the shower water to warm up, he assembles his toiletries and looks at his body through the fogging mirror. It had been a long time since he went to the gym, even longer since he played volleyball, but he remained toned with occasionally joining Eita on jogs and being on his feet all day.

Kenjirou was not planning on having a prolonged shower, the excitement of trying on lingerie rushing his normally long showers. As soon as the hot water touched his skin, unknown tension melted out of his muscles and joined the swirling water filtering down the drain. After he had washed his hair, he lathered up his body and started with the lengthy process of shaving. Thankfully, he was blessed with smooth skin with very little body hair. The hair that did grow took a day and an age to grow back, so Kenjirou didn’t necessarily mind occasional shave. Eita’s favourite complaint was about how infrequently Kenjirou had to shave while he had to on a daily basis to avoid looking scruffy with his already long hair.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he steps back under the spray, washing off the suds and conditioner. With a creak of the pipes, the shower is stopped so he can step out to towel himself off. Grabbing the bottle of coconut-scented body lotion from the vanity, he makes quick work of rubbing the thick cream into his skin. Running his fingers down his legs, he enjoys their velvety feel, now softer than ever.

He ended up leaving the towel in the adjoining bathroom and walking out into the bedroom nude. It was another perk of owning an apartment on the 13th floor with someone you love, you could walk around in the nude just to stir each other without the fear of a neighbour seeing, which Eita abused whenever he was in the mood. When faced with a naked Eita, one was left without any option other than mapping out the contours of his gorgeous body with their mouths or fingertips – not that Kenjirou would let anyone have the opportunity if he can help it.

Corset looking enticing in the red crepe, Kenjirou left it for now in favour of pulling the bottoms on first. It was going to be a struggle to tie it up alone, so best to leave it for now. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he carefully puts the bottoms on one leg at a time, afraid of the delicate thin fabric ripping if he was too rough. Standing up, he snaps the waist band against his skin and adjusts them to fit his member within them comfortably.

He was concerned that the fabric may be tight in the front or maybe itchy against his skin. He was relived to find those fears were unfounded. The lace was soft against his length and the front was tight enough to accentuate his members but not enough to feel suffocating. Tugging at the material, he was surprised to find that it was elastic-like, which would be good when he inevitably gets hard.

“I really did strike gold with that site, huh?” He comments to himself. In the back of his mind, he filed away the store’s name, thinking he’ll definitely end up buying another piece from there in the future, regardless of if Eita liked it or not. He felt good. _Real good_.

Looking over to the corset, Kenjirou frowned at himself before undertaking the task. Much like he thought, squeezing himself into was the easy part, it was trying to place the clasps in their designated holes that posed the biggest threat to Kenjirou backing out of tonight’s plan. After a few choice curses, sucking in his stomach as much as humanly possible and almost giving up, he slotted in the final clasp. Thankfully, the corset was made to be done up on the front. Kenjirou had no idea how he would’ve done it if it was like the more mainstream corsets available.

Standing in front of the mirror, Kenjirou gives the outfit a scrutinising look, dissecting each piece and how they complimented his physique. His wondering eyes paused over his bare legs, giving them an appreciative look at how long they appeared. Attention drifting upwards, he examines the corset, hands coming up to fiddling with the white lace bordering the satin fabric. The corset was a snug fit, much like Kenjirou had expected, but being unable to take a deep breath was well worth the effect it gave. It highlighted his small waist and even gave the illusion of his pectoral muscles looking much larger than they actually were, filling the small cups.

Turning around, he looked over his shoulder to view his back. The lace-up on the back of the corset was purely for looks, with the white satin bow brushing the small of his back. Doing a double-take Kenjirou could not believe how perky his ass looked. _God damn_. Now he knows why Eita can’t keep his hands to himself when Kenjirou forewent pants during summer nights.

His reflection nodded along him as he hummed lowly. He both felt _and_ looked good wearing this. Liking to think he has a pretty good view of himself, the lingerie seemed to accentuate his best features. The scraps of dark red fabric drew the eyes to all the places he wanted Eita to look at, namely his shapely ass and the bulge of his dick. Once he got an erection, it would be noticeable and hard to conceal, although he supposes that’s the whole point of the panties made for men.

Originally, he was very much against red, but after Eita’s comments of how good red stood out against his skin, he soon became quite partial to the colour. Albeit, he did have an existential crisis when he saw similar piece but in a royal purple hue, which is Eita’s favourite colour. In the end, he had decided that piece can be brought at another date, depending of how well tonight went.

Eyes flitting up and down, he frowns at his reflection. From the bottom of the corset hung two strings, front and back. Pursing his lips, Kenjirou rubs the fabric between his fingers before he realises what they’re for. Remembering the garters left forgotten, he quickly fetches them and pulls them on. Clipping them onto the corset’s built-in grater supporters, he turns back to the mirror to examine the newest addition. The leg-pieces ever-so-slightly cut into the soft part of his upper thighs, whilst the corset hugged into his waist and gave his boyish body curves that had him make a double take.

The ensemble gave him a look of femininity that he found himself liking. He didn’t quite expect to like the lingerie as much as he did, feeling his member swell with the rush of blood from the thrill arousal.

“Well that was unexpected…” He talks to his mirror image, watching as it copies him placing his hands onto his once non-existent but now pronounced hips. 

Irritated at himself, he still feels that there’s something missing. He’s always been a perfectionist and will hold every activity he does to a very high standard, even dressing up for his weary fiancé. He needed the pièce de résistance that would tie the ensemble together that will tip Eita off that tonight was special.

Eyebrows furrowed, Kenjirou contemplates as he studies his reflection’s face, eyes hesitating over his bare lips. Having an _‘aha!’_ moment, Kenjirou walks over to his dresser and digs deep into a container holding miscellaneous pieces he’s gathered over the years. His fingers brush against the short cylindrical object he was looking for and pulls it out.

Going back to the mirror, Kenjirou uncaps the tube of lipstick and swipes the rouge pigment onto his lips, smacking his lips together to round the edges. That was it, the smear of lipstick was all he needed to top off the already irresistible look. Pleased at the sight of himself, he had to admit he did a pretty damn good job of dressing up. Kenjirou hopes the Eita will appreciate the effort he put in to rekindle the pleasure he hasn’t felt since they got engaged.

‘Eita is going to keel over when he sees this.’ The wicked thought made him smile.

Giving a twirl, he walks over to the dresser and pulls out one of the larger shirts Eita owns, slipping it over his head and feeling somewhat giddy at how the soft cotton brushes his thighs just below the lacy garters.

Eita was going to drop when he saw what he was wearing underneath and thankfully Kenjirou was qualified to deal with emergencies like that. Kenjirou again felt the tight knot of anticipation makes its presence known by coiling even tighter within his abdomen, stirring up buried lust that he expects to get resolved tonight.

-

Eita heftily sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that afternoon as he passes through their apartment’s threshold. He doesn’t know why he was expecting a sudden change in attitude from everyone in the office, but Kenjirou’s phone call from this morning left his heart a little lighter in hope for a better day. He was so very wrong.

Disappointment wouldn’t be the word he would use to describe his day. No, the word couldn’t convey the true amount of fuckery he had to put up with over this month from his employer and fellow employees. At one point after a particularly snide remark at his proposal during the weekly meeting, he honestly considered maybe it was time to quit and find a better job that wouldn’t eat away at the time he spent at home.

Slumping into a chair pulled out from the dinning table, Eita presses cold fingertips against temples in an attempt to soothe the furious pounding punishing him on top of his shit-fight of a day. Wrapped up in trying to decompress his jumbled thoughts, Eita misses the faint footsteps trailing towards his seated form.

“Tough day, huh? I honestly expected you to be home a lot later than this.” Kenjirou’s subdued voice filtered through his ears, causing him to relax his tensed shoulders.

“Yeah, they honestly don’t know when to give me a break. It’s not my fault I’m actually competent at my job.” Eita whines, not looking up to see Kenjirou’s concerned expression. “Anyway, the boss ended up not handing off the work to me for once, he picked some other poor office jockey.”

Shirabu snorted at his words. “At least he picked some new victim to handle all his shit, I honestly don’t know how you haven’t blown up at him. I still remember you blowing up on coach Washijou when he made the first years serve until their fingers blistered and bled.”

Eita shakes his head at the memory. He honestly did not think he would survive that practice. Washijou did not take kindly to getting berated by a third tear student. He’s pretty sure that was the first time Kenjirou sought him out after practice, offering to wrap Eita’s abused fingers and causing Eita to think that maybe Washijou did kill him because Shirabu Kenjirou did not care for Semi Eita like that. It was the first tender moment they shared, heralding the beginning of many more to follow.

“I don’t know how I haven’t lost it either… I think the more rational part of me overrides the hot-headed part of me. I really need to keep this job the pay is too good to give it up.” He grimaces down at his lap. He would leave that job in a heartbeat if a better opportunity arouse but countless nights spent job hunting have left him discouraged.

“Well, I love that hot-headed part of you. It was what made me really notice you for the first time. You should let him out every now and again.” Kenjirou’s voice sounded much closer now, dipped into a tone that he usually saved for the bedroom.

Jerking his head up in surprise, Eita looked up to see the copper-haired minx dressed only in one of his old shirts. That alone was enough to get his blood roaring in his ears, but it was the lace peeking from the hem that had Eita swearing that his eyes nearly popped out.

“It’s rude to stare y’know?” Kenjirou’s red – _sinfully red_ , Eita’s mind unhelpfully suggests – lips quirked up into a knowing smile.

He traced a hand down to the hem of his stolen shirt and lifted it enough for Eita to catch a glimpse of matching red satin and lace garters wrapped around pale, supple thighs.

Eita had never once in his entire life wanted a T-shirt to spontaneously disintegrate so badly in his life. All he craved was ripping the shirt off of Kenjirou’s slender body to reveal the secrets it was withholding from his eager eyes.

Dry mouth and clammy hands is all Kenjirou had reduced Eita to with just a peak of what was to come. Kenjirou is mildly concerned that Eita’s jaw maybe dislocated from how quickly it dropped him revealing the garters, but he gladly bathed in the unadulterated attention his ash-blond love was giving him.

“Why don’t you take off that shirt and come over here so I can look at you properly?” Voice rough, Eita was glad it didn’t crack on him. From the way Kenjirou shivered from his tone, it was exactly the right thing to say.

Always the tempter, Kenjirou was going to make a show out of the simple act of taking off the shirt. It was an attempt to push Eita off the edge in impatience and catch a glimpse of the wild side Eita so rarely let loose.

Biting his painted bottom lip, Kenjirou fiddled with the edge of the fabric, slightly lifting it. “I thought you’d say that. I was thinking keeping it on for a little longer, it’s so comfortable after all.” At Eita’s dark look, Kenjirou knew he already pushing at his buttons.

“But,” Kenjirou continues with a devious smirk, “I’ll gladly do it since you asked so nicely.” Eita’s jaw clenched at his teasing words, choosing not to rise to the bait, waiting with bated breath for the shirt to disappear.

Eita knew the demon before him was going to draw this out for as long as possible and he was unable to anything about it. He’s frozen to the seat as Kenjirou slides his left hand down his front, to join its twin at the bottom of the god-forsaken shirt. The fabric rustles as pale hands grasp it and slowly inch the fabric up, exposing smooth flesh to the cool evening air bit by tantalising bit.

Before he exposed the panties he was wearing, he paused, ensuring that Eita’s eyes were solely on him and nothing else.

Eyes darkened with arousal, Eita’s attention immediately home in on the miniscule amount of flesh his fiancé had bared. Satisfied with the intense gaze fastened on him, Kenjirou deigned to continue his leisurely pace of stripping the shirt off. By the time he tossed it to the side, Eita was fidgeting in his seat with a wide eyes. The prominent bulge pressed against the front of his slacks was telling that he very much enjoyed the show Kenjirou had put on, along with the outfit that adorned his physique.

Thirsty for more, Eita hastily drank in every minute detail of the visual art piece that was Shirabu Kenjirou. There he stood in front of a gobsmacked Eita, looking completely fuckable wrapped up in wine-red satin and lace that Eita’s hands were itching to touch and rip off the second Kenjirou gave the go ahead.

The sultry expression painted on Kenjirou’s face as he strutted towards Eita is what did him in. That lascivious look could make a weaker man walk backwards into hell with a single word. Eita was willing to forgo whatever god existed, just to bask in Kenjirou’s sinful presence.

Clothed knees brushing against naked shins as Kenjirou comes close. Leaning down, he grasps the back of the chair and rests his forearms against Eita’s shoulders, as he throws a long, toned leg over to straddle Eita’s lap.

“You could make a grown man weep, babe.” Eita breathed, eyeing plump red lips, wanting to lick and bite it all off.

Who knew that the devil would tempt Eita in the form of a man barely dressed in racy red lingerie and matching lipstick?

Kenjirou gives him a dark grin. “Then cry for me, gorgeous.”

Self-restraint flies out the window as Eita moves forward and pulls the shorter male into a searing, soul-shattering kiss. Teeth clacked together as they part their lips, tongues soon joining the fray and deepening the passion poured into the kiss. The two try their hardest to suck the work-derived exhaustion from one another and replacing it with burning arousal with every lick and nip.

Tongue darting back into his mouth, Kenjirou breaks away from the hot make out and brands a distinct red kiss on each cheek. He admired the way his marks stands out on Eita’s golden-toned skin. The contrasting rouge smudge around his lips making him look down-right delectable, making Kenjirou’s dick jump in its confinement.

“Red looks good on you. Maybe I should put lipstick on you instead.” His hands drop down to press against Eita’s chiselled chest, able to feel defined pectorals through the thick cotton button-down. After high school, Eita never gave up the weekly routine of going to the gym to maintain the muscles he’d developed through high school. Kenjirou silently thanks the Tairyoku Gym every single day for the gift that was Eita’s body.

Eita chuckled at that. “How about we try that another night? I’m too invested in what you’ve started to get side-tracked now.” He pressed a chaste kiss onto the pouting male’s forehead concealed by a hanging fringe to consolidate his unspoken promise of ‘ _next time’_.

Kenjirou now longer want to draw this out, he’s had his fun. Already having to wait so long to have Eita like this, Kenjirou could no longer stall the inevitable. His trapped erection was a painful reminder of his pent-up sexual frustration demanding a proper release. From the rigid member Kenjirou could feel pressed against his thigh, it would seem that Eita was suffering the same dilemma.

Deft fingers from years of setting and playing violin come in hand as Kenjirou rapidly pops the buttons of Eita’s shirt and tugs at the fabric in silent demand for him to remove it.

Laughing at Kenjirou’s impatience, Eita leans forward to slip the shirt off and gasps when he feels Kenjirou’s mouth instantly attach to his bare chest, kissing and nipping at unmarked skin.

Continuing his quest, Kenjirou sucks a few hickeys into the firm muscle of Eita’s chest, dick twitching inside its lacy confines at every groan that rumbles through the chest beneath his wondering mouth. Occasionally, he’ll nip at warm skin just to elicit a small hiss from lips tinted with Kenjirou’s crimson mark.

One particular harsh nip, more of a bite really, has Eita’s hands jerking up from their resting place on Kenjirou’s hips to tightly squeeze at his waist, in warning. Loving the feeling of smooth satin under his fingertips, he continues to squeeze Kenjirou’s waist with every kiss, lick and nip he gives.

Grinding up into the warm body caging him in the chair, Eita inwardly griped at the lack of friction. With his thick work slacks, it made it impossible to feel Kenjirou’s sequestered cock against his. Eita wanted nothing more than to brush bare skin against the soft lace encasing Kenjirou’s hard cock, to feel that warmth intimately against his.

The pink tip of Kenjirou’s member peeked out from the top of the lacy panties and Eita’s mind stalled at the preview of what was to come. Feeling the snap of his mind, finally fed up with the teasing and dry humping, he roughly picks Kenjirou up by the waist. Hoisting him up onto his shoulder, Eita practically runs to their bedroom with the hardest erection he’s experienced in his life.

Ignoring the indignant yelp from the almost nude male at the abrupt move, Eita doesn’t hesitate to kick open the door, throw his fiancé onto the bed and hastily shuck off his pants and underwear.

“Someone’s awfully eager.” Kenjirou snidely remarks, making himself comfortable atop the thick duvet.

“Don’t act like you’re unaffected by the dry spell. You aren’t nearly as quiet as you think you are when jacking off in the shower.” Eita retorts, climbing onto the bed, loving the blush painted across Kenjirou’s scowling façade at the call out.

“Name one person that could go from sex at least once a week to no sex for nearly a month. Don’t try to act so virginal.” The copper-tinged blond bites back, shuffling to give Eita some room on the bed.

Crawling between parted legs, Eita grazes his hand over lace-adorned flesh, snapping the elastic band of the garters against Kenjirou’s skin, earning him yet another glower.

“I don’t think I said it out loud, but these panties look incredible on you.” With a hungry glint in his eye, Eita draws himself up towards Kenjirou’s flustered face, hands gliding over dark satin and leaving warmth in their wake.

Throwing his arms over broad shoulders, Kenjirou hums in thought as he interlocks his hands behind neatly combed long dark tipped hair. Since growing it out after graduation, the longest parts of Eita’s pale locks brushed his shoulders. Kenjirou agreed it was a wise decision to grow it out. Long hair looked good on Eita. It was nice to run his fingers through on their few shared off days. The lewd part of him also suggesting it proving to be a good handhold for when Eita mercilessly pounded into him.

“I think they would look better on the floor.” He suggested lowly with a sly look, curling his fingers into the soft hair he loved very much. Kenjirou found himself getting more excited about messing up the neat hairstyle than the expensive lingerie’s fate.

Eita’s blood burned at the heavy look the love of his love was giving him. Full-well knowing how competitive they could both be, Eita couldn’t not rise to the bait this time.

“You’re right, Doc. Let me help you with that.”

Ignoring the use of Eita’s new favourite nickname for him, Kenjirou weaves their fingers together and guides the taller’s hands down to the flimsy piece of fabric. Not having to ask twice, slender fingers more suited to play the guitar rather than type all day hook into the waistband and slowly pull them off, exposing Kenjirou’s hard member.

Although unneeded, Eita didn’t pass up the opportunity to run his hands down the smooth expanse of Kenjirou’s legs as he brings the panties down. When he reached the garters, he unclipped them to bring them down along with it. As much as he hated to do so, he was left with no other choice. The panties hadn’t even hit the floor as Kenjirou was forced to sit up and pressed against Eita’s bare chest and lured into another deep kiss.

Their skin already radiating the warmth Kenjirou adored in the colder months and rued in the warmer ones. Not that his complaints ever stopped Semi’s tight cuddles which resulted in daily morning showers for Kenjirou every summer.

The kiss was long and languid, showing no rush to reach the main event. This was well overdue, Kenjirou could tell from the way Eita keened when he bit into his bottom lip and tugged, from the way he himself grinds against Eita’s built thigh as the kiss slowly builds intensity.

Lips hungering for more, Eita moved southwards. Every inch traversed was punctuated with short kisses or nips. Smooth skin blossomed with pinks and reds as Eita took his fill. Unlike Kenjirou, Eita did not share the same considerations when it came to leaving a few above-the-collar marks behind.

Sucking marks down Kenjirou’s throat, Eita both hopes that he can’t and will cover them before his next shift, a greedy part of him wanting everyone to know that the gorgeous doctor was already claimed and well satisfied if the engagement ring wasn’t enough of a deterrent. Although, Eita did not want Kenjirou to get written up for inappropriate appearance, which was something that commonly occurred at his hospital, surprisingly.

Chains of gentle purples and pinks are left in his wake as he sucks and bites his mark into Kenjirou’s exposed chest. Eita’s favourite scent of coconuts rushes through his senses, much to his delight. Digging his teeth in a little harder at the revelation, Eita relishes the small moans coaxed from Kenjirou’s pretty mouth at the rough treatment.

Much like any musical instrument placed in his hands, Eita coaxes out the most beautiful noises from Kenjirou’s body with his fingers and mouth. A hundred years could be filled with nothing but each other and Eita would still need more time to take his fill of Kenjirou’s body so freely given to him. Eita would then need a millennium to shower Kenjirou with all the love he deserved.

For the meantime, Eita settles with what time he’s given. 

Paying special attention to the clusters of faint freckles spread across his shoulders, placing a series of pecks on each angel kiss. Inwardly, he fretted at how pale Kenjirou has gotten from devoting all his time to his studies, allowing the freckles to become more noticeable. Without someone to physically rip the stubborn brat from his desk, Eita knew from previous occasions that Kenjirou would waste away at his desk without a single complaint.

 _“Eita.”_ The sound of his name all breathy and drawn out sends shivers down Eita’s spine.

Every time they get together, it feels like a new experience. Eita always love that about his fiancé, nothing ever seemed to lose that golden glow that bathes new experiences. It felt like every time was their first time. Embarrassment is the forefront emotion Eita experiences when he recalls that night, god he was so awkward. Still, they both made the best of their combined inexperience and learnt _a lot_ about each other that night; ensuring future encounters to be much more magical.

Kenjirou removes his hands from Eita, incidentally ripping the aspiring musician away from the spontaneous reverie. Reaching up to the clasps holding the corset together, Kenjirou starts tugging at the top one, getting ready to remove it. Stopped by the hand on his arm, Kenjirou gives Eita a curious look.

“No way are you taking that off.” Eita’s eyes dip down to admire the corset hugging his pronounce hips once again. “What’s the point in wasting perfection? Please keep it on.”

The corset wasn’t necessarily bothering him, but it was weird to not feel his love’s touch against bare skin. It did help that Kenjirou felt extremely good while wearing it, exacerbated by Eita’s plea to keep it on. Blood rushes southward as Eita’s eyes sear into him, waiting for a response.

Intense need consumes him, leaving no room to answer, much less breath. Launching himself at an unexpecting Eita, he melds their lips together to convey his want. Weaving his fingers through tousled hair, Kenjirou presses himself as close as physically possible into Eita, seeking out that warmth that he desperately craves.

Still striving to repay Kenjirou from leaving his side of the bed empty and cold every morning, he swore to himself that he wasn’t leaving this bed until Kenjirou was saturated with his burning desire that will keep him warm on those lonely mornings.

The tight coil sitting heavy in his abdomen pulled Kenjirou towards more pressing matters, forcing him to rip away from the Eita’s addictive mouth. Kenjirou scraped his teeth across Eita’s Adam’s apple causing the taller to give a delicious shiver in return. Oh, Kenjirou liked that a lot, the power Eita willingly hands over going straight to both of his heads.

Wanting to elicit another cute reaction from his normally dominant partner, crimson lips brushed down the column of Eita’s throat. Kenjirou desired greatly to decorate it with hickies but he knew how Eita would react to having to cover those up for work. As good as Eita looks with them, it wasn’t worth the bitching Kenjirou have to suffer through about having to cover them up because his prying co-workers couldn’t mind their own business.

Instead, Kenjirou goes for the next best thing and starts covering the large expanse of chiselled torso before him in crimson kisses. With each press, the mark grows fainter and fainter until it becomes pink ghosts littering Eita’s chest. Shirabu admires his handiwork, feeling heat flash through him at the sight of Eita covered in lipstick kisses, Kenjirou’s mark stamped into his golden-toned skin. The sight left him want more.

Showing some appreciation towards ignored pert nipples, Kenjirou kissed and sucked at them until they were just as red and swollen as their owner’s lips. Kenjirou was careful of the piercings in each one, knowing how quick the pleasure can warp into pain if he pulled or sucked too hard. The other nipple rolled between his thumb and forefinger, also careful of the piercing, as he administered some well needed love to the sensitive buds.

Under his ministrations, Eita bucks, hips seeking out friction. The deep moans vibrating the air urges Kenjirou to keep going. Knowing how sensitive the buds are, Eita wouldn’t be surprised if a few more tugs and a hand placed on his dick would have him unravelling.

Not wanting to ruin the fun by orgasming, Eita suddenly grabs Kenjirou by the waist and pins him to the bed. Kenjirou gasps as he’s ripped away from his masterpiece, words of complaint at the tip of his tongue for cutting his fun short. However, the hungry look Eita gives him stole the very words from his mouth.

Leaning down Eita again captures ruby lips, trying his hardest to make a beautiful mess out of the copper-haired menace. Hands squeezing the full globes of Kenjirou’s ass that Eita adored, rocking his member against soft thighs to finally receive the friction he desired.

At the feeling of Eita’s rigid length, clarity comes back to Kenjirou. It was too easy to be swept away by Eita’s dominating kiss, seamlessly taking back the control he happily handed over without Kenjirou even realising. No one recognised Eita for the sneak he was due to his open and serious nature, but Kenjirou always saw past the façade for the sneaky asshole Eita could be when needed.

Pushing against Eita’s chest, Kenjirou quelled the smouldering arousal inside of him. As much as he wouldn’t mind continuing down this path, tonight was intended to treat Eita more than himself.

Immediately stopping, Eita pulls back his hands and gives a rushed apology. Panic gripped Eita as he feared he might’ve hurt Kenjirou in some way. At the fear on his fiancé’s face, Kenjirou stroked his cheek in assurance that he did nothing wrong.

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you tonight. Just lay back and appreciate me.” Eita’s heart just about melts at the soft expression on Kenjirou’s face. The earnest love speckled through the honeyed irises made him extremely weak.

“I always do, baby, but you’ve done enough already.” Eita argues. “Plus, who says I don’t enjoy having you like this?”

Kenjirou raises an eyebrow at him. Off the top of his head, he could name a dozen times Eita gladly conceded all control and let Kenjirou take over. Those moments had a special place in his heart. Usually Eita specifically asked for it whenever he’s had an especially awful day and work starts grinding against his wild spirit, needing something to take his mind off of it. It was a good sign that Eita didn’t want that tonight, Kenjirou supposes.

Still, he was kind of looking forward to having a writhing Eita under him. Oh well, there was always another night for that.

“Okay.” He agrees.

At the consent, glorious arms flex as they cage him in, careful of the hair fanned out on the sheets. Eita hovers over Kenjirou, taking in long pale eyelashes brushing against tall cheek bones as Kenjirou gazes up at his through them. Eita places a chaste kiss onto Kenjirou’s cheek to show his appreciation of the gesture, causing pale cheeks flush.

It was somewhat funny that an innocent kiss could draw out a blush from the guy possessing the wickedest tongue on earth.

Feeling that they’ve drawn this out long enough, Eita speeds things along. Supporting himself on one arm, he reached down to ghost his fingers along Kenjirou’s hole. At the feeling of slickness already present, Eita shot a devilish-looking Kenjirou a confused look.

“What? You expect me to not have a little fun before you come home? Please, I though you knew me.”

“Is that so?” Eita pressed the entirety of his index finger inside of Kenjirou, soon adding his middle finger. No word of a lie, Kenjirou did indeed have some fun before he arrived, no resistance met when he scissors them. Arousal burns hard and deep inside him at the thought of Kenjirou splayed out on the bed with his fingers buried deep inside while waiting impatiently for Eita to come home and finish the job.

“You’re so considerate when you want to be.” Kenjirou scoff at Eita’s light-hearted barb teeters into a moan as Eita pressed in deeper.

“You’d be surprised at how good my bedside manner is now, thanks to your help.” He retorts breathlessly with closed eyes, enjoying the feeling of Eita’s longer fingers inside of him.

The memory of Kenjirou fretting about his superior’s comment about his lacklustre patient bedside manner was one that brought a smile to Eita’s lips. The then-aspiring doctor had fretted for hours until Eita suggested that he practice on him until he gets comfortable with it. At the time, Kenjirou thought it was little silly. What he thought needed to be done was research patient psychology and learn to not dissociated himself from the patient. With some coercion in the form of an expensive at is favourite restaurant, Kenjirou caved and let Eita help him and now he’s known to be one of the more amicable, albeit blunt, doctors of the fourth-floor unit.

“I love you.” Eita’s reverie was lost to the wind at Kenjirou’s unexpected confession. No matter how many times he’s heard those three words, they never fail to make his heart skip a beat. Looking up at with Kenjirou wide eyes, he was met with taupe eyes glittering with boundless love.

“I will always love you, Kenji. For forever and a day” Eita swears. His smile showing a hint of teeth that signalled to Kenjirou that his fiancé was genuinely happy. Eita unable to hide the pure joy filling and radiating out of his body.

Smiling at each other, Eita blindly reaches for the bottle of lube he spotted sticking out from under the pillows and squirts a hefty amount into his hand. Giving himself a few quick strokes, Eita delivers one final chaste kiss as he lines himself up and slowly starts to push his way into the vision of a man beneath him.

With Kenjirou’s previous handiwork, it only took two rolls of his hips to be completely sheathed, knocking the fond smiles off each other’s faces. The burning heat of lust replaces the soft warmth that presided over them. Faint pants and gasps soon fill the gaps that words could no longer fill.

Lithe physique wrapped up in crimson, bouncing on his cock appeared as an ethereal sight to Eita’s greedy eyes. Soaking up every detail of the beautiful man writhing under him, the heat emanating from their skin as the fervently seek out completion in each other. Eita has no idea what he did in a past life to earn the gift that was Kenjirou breezing into his life, turning everything on its head with a smirk and snarky comment.

Intent on showing his appreciation to the love of his life, Eita ran his hands down from Kenjirou’s shoulder down to his hips, just below where the corset ended. With a rakish grin Eita roughly grasps at the soft flesh left exposed by the lace and thrusts deeper, drawing out a soft moan from panted lips.

“You have no idea what this does to me.” Eita groans, leaning down to tug at the corset’s lace trim with his teeth to demonstrate his point.

A light laugh from Kenjirou morphed into a breathy sigh as Eita slammed in harder at the way Kenjirou imperceptibly tightened around his length at the feel of teeth scraping against the tops of his pectorals.

With each thrust, ecstasy pervades Kenjirou’s entire being. Being unable to voice his pleasure due to his mouth temporarily stuck in a ‘O’ shape, Kenjirou instead moans and intermittently tighten around the intrusion.

Semi is worried that he may have went a little far and quite literally fucked the wits out of Kenjirou at the lack of banter from Kenjirou even while fucking. Although, he knew that Kenjirou would not hesitate to show Eita if he wasn’t enjoying the unforgiving pace.

Love was such a complicate language. It took Eita several months before he realised Kenjirou’s. The copper-haired male was raised with a quiet kind of love filled with fleeting touches and proud praises, which translated into how he shows it now. Always a man of few words, his actions more than made up for it. Thoughtless touching, whether it be hand holding or a caress when he walking by, it all signified the subdued love Kenjirou possessed for Eita.

Voicelessly, Kenjirou shared his enjoyment by scratching his neatly trimmed nails down Eita’s rippling back muscles. Unconsciously mapping the divots and bumps as his love rolls in and out of him like the tides of the ocean, powerful and unrelenting.

Ardently meeting each and every thrust of Eita’s hips with his own rushing backwards, trying to force more of Eita’s length inside. Rocking forward, his leaking dick bounced up to hit his stomach and spread precum over himself.

It was ridiculous how much Kenjirou was enjoying himself right now, short breaths puffing out between bitten lips, trying to contain the louder moans that threatened to choke. Just because he was enjoying himself didn’t mean that he wanted the neighbours – hell the entire floor – to know.

Eita on the other hand craved the depraved noises. A vibrant symphony of pants and moans as their bodies loudly clash. A song created by them that spoke leagues about the years of love and trust fostered between them.

“You feel so good inside of me.” Kenjirou moans, voice edging into a whine as Eita’s thrust hit a new angle.

Eita felt his self-restraint snapping. Gone was the fumbling Eita that had asked twenty billion times if Kenjirou was okay during their first time together; now replaced with a man wholly consumed by the need to fuck the gorgeous man under him senseless. Hands that Kenjirou had watched set hundreds perfect plays roughly grabbed onto his ass, practically impaling Kenjirou onto his cock.

The new angle pulled the stars and galaxies from the sky and painted them across Kenjirou’s clenched shut eyelids. Fisting the sheets in his hands, tangible evidence that he was still on Earth and not in paradise. The hard and rapid thrusts now hit a spot deep within him that had him rushing towards his peak.

With a shuddering breath, Kenjirou came undone on Eita’s member untouched. Mind overwhelmed with the electrifying sensations encompassing his entire being, he almost missed Eita coming to completion alongside him. The long grunt of pleasure being the last thing that reaches his ears as Eita buries himself deep as releases his load inside.

-

“After almost a month going without sex, I did not expect you to last that long.” Kenjirou jokes, burying his head into the crook of Eita’s neck, uncaring of the sweat drying on his skin.

“You’re the best fiancé a man could ask for, but...” Semi pauses, leaving Kenjirou hanging on his words. “You’re still a brat.”

Kenjirou smacks a laughing Eita in the chest hard enough for it to sting. Rubbing at the sore spot with a totally not cute pout on his lips, Kenjirou rolled his eyes at his antics.

Possessing the face of an angel and the personality of a demon, Kenjirou never left Eita bored. Kenjirou shined light onto even the most mundane of activities, including prolonging the post-orgasmic bliss still in his system.

“I don’t see you complaining. You like me being a brat.” Smirking up at an unimpressed Eita as he simultaneously tightens around the member still sheathed inside of him.

Eita nearly chokes on his spit at the overwhelming pressure against his sensitive cock.

Shooting Kenjirou a warning look, Eita huffs at the petty move. He could waste his breath and reprimand him but knew that his words would fall on deaf ears.

With a wet sound, Eita pulled out of Kenjirou, a gush of cum following shortly behind. Swallowing at Kenjirou’s breathy groan at being empty, Eita had to rip his eyes away to fight away his returning lust. It felt like he was high school again, getting horny not even a minute after orgasming. That was the magic of sleeping with one Shirabu Kenjirou, Eita assumes.

Knowing he could spend all day in bed with Kenjirou curled against him, he could felt Kenjirou start to squirm at the feeling of drying body fluids on him. Taking pity on him, Eita leaves the bed to grab a towel from their adjoining bathroom.

Walking back to the bed, Kenjirou admires Eita’s unabashed nudity walking around their bedroom. It was weird to think that not even two years ago, Eita refused to go shirtless. No matter how hot the apartment became or that the aircon was broken, the shirt stayed on. God that was a hellish summer, Kenjirou groaned aloud at the memory.

“And just what are you groaning about?” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Semi piques an amused eyebrow at his illegally cute fiancé.

“Nothing.” At the disbelieving look he received, Kenjirou knew he wouldn’t be able to brush it off. Oh well, lucky that it was Kenjirou’s favourite pastime to cause Eita mayhem.

As Eita started to wipe himself down, Kenjirou propped himself up and gave Eita an appreciative glance. Eita’s hair was an absolute disaster from Kenjirou messing it up and would take forever to gently remove each tangle without causing ripping out hair, but that was an issue for another time.

“Remember that first summer we spent in this apartment?” Eita immediately groans and throws his head back at Kenjirou bringing up the memory.

“How could I forget? I’m pretty sure I was _this close_ to heat stroke multiple times. It was horrible.” Eita pushes his thumb and index fingers close enough to leave the smallest gap, exhibiting just how close he was.

Kenjirou laughs at the dramatics. It was bad but he wouldn’t ever let Eita suffer under his care. There was a few time Kenjirou had caught him sitting in the shower, fully clothed, under a spray of cold water, too drained to respond to Kenjirou’s joking offer of shower sex. That was probably the most concerned Kenjirou had ever been, but other than that, Eita never displayed symptoms for heat stroke and they both survived the heat wave.

“Yeah, that one. I was just thinking it was funny how you refused to go shirtless and now you strut around nude.” Kenjirou states.

Eita pauses. He was facing away from Kenjirou, so he had no idea what expression he had. Concerned, Kenjirou shuffled over to him and grabbed his shoulders to face him.

While the sight of Eita blushing furiously wasn’t novel, it never failed to make Kenjirou’s day. Normally, when his heart skips a beat in his chest, he’d be concerned, but this time it went ignored as Kenjirou contemplated how ridiculously cute and paradoxically sexy his soon-to-be husband is.

“I, uh,” Eita’s eyes darted about. Whether he was seeking out an escape route or the answer to Kenjirou’s unspoken question was unknown to both of them.

“I was scared that if I went shirtless, you would too and…” Eita bit at his lips as the words escape his flustered mind. Enraptured with Eita’s answer to the question that had been unknowingly haunting him for all these years, Kenjirou leaned forward.

Eita faced away from Kenjirou, unable to handle the intense honeyed-brown gaze. “I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to help myself and get a boner every time you picked something up.”

Silence welled up into the gaps between them. On Eita’s part due to the searing embarrassment doing its best to turn him into a blushing mess and on Kenjirou’s part due to being unprepared to hear that answer.

“You are such an idiot.” Kenjirou says flatly, masking the way he felt weirdly proud at the admission.

Giving an indignant shout, Eita lets Kenjirou steal the dampened towel to start cleaning himself off.

After wiping off the last bit of grime, Kenjirou places his hands onto tense shoulders and places an apologetic kiss on Eita’s still-red mouth. Instantly forgiving his love of his minor transgression, Eita wraps his arms around them both and easing them down to their sides.

If someone had told them after they first met they would be spending a Friday night with the person they were intending to marry, they would have both laughed. Eita would’ve shrugged it off and said a coy _‘maybe’_. Meanwhile Kenjirou would’ve outright insulted the person and questioned their sanity. Now add in the fact that it would be to _each other_?

Even now, they both agree their journey has not been conventional in any sense of the term. However, they made this hard-earned love their own.

The wedding seemed eons away with all the planning, needing to be done. It served as additional stress that neither of them really needed, but both were determined to persevere and have their own ceremony. Afterall they have faced much tougher components together. The engagement for one example.

In this moment, however, embracing each other and letting their adoration for one another fill the gaps where their skin didn’t touch, Kenjirou knew that no wedding, engagement or date could possibly surpass the love and elation he felt with Eita in these quiet moments.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me two month to write bc I have the attention span of a child. I also seem to be unable to not give Semi a hard time rip. This was largely an excuse to write a simping Semi and Shirabu in lingerie. If you want to see some amazing art of Shirabu in lingerie that kicked me to finish this, check out possumel on Tumblr (https://possumel.tumblr.com/post/625805879214800896/semishira-drawing-71) !
> 
> Critiques, Comments & Kudos are always appreciated!!


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